


Weights and Measures

by adiva_calandia



Series: Stars, Rain, Sun, Moon [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Young Wizards - Diane Duane
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-25
Updated: 2014-10-25
Packaged: 2018-02-22 14:21:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2510810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adiva_calandia/pseuds/adiva_calandia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bonus scenes and ficlets for the SRSM-verse.</p><p>1. Well after the fact, Natasha has some questions about Nita's methods of dealing with people who are trying to kill her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Weights and Measures

"So I wanted to ask you something," Natasha says, out of the blue, which strikes Nita as an ominous start to a conversation.

But she says "Sure" readily enough. They're sharing a room in the Crossings' lodgings; Nita has been going over a precis in her manual, sprawled on her stomach at the foot of the bed, while Natasha leans against the headboard and reads. There's that kind of sleepover intimacy that comes of the room being dimly lit, a little chilly, and not their own.

"About that extraction mission," Natasha says.

Nita props herself up on her elbows and gives her a questioning look. "Which?"

"The Tanaka extraction, in Oklahoma."

"Oh." Militiamen, bullets, stairwells, blood. "Yeah?"

Natasha is watching her closely, with that unblinking stare of hers. Nita can't quite tell whether her expression is one of curiosity or interrogation. "Clint told me you got caught on the stairs by one of the gunmen -- pinned down." Nita grimaces, and Natasha tips her head. "You okay?"

"Yeah, it just. Wasn't fun, you know? I remember that."

"Clint said you threatened to rip the shooter into his component atoms."

Nita's eyebrows go up. "Did he."

"Did you?"

After a moment, Nita nods. "Something like that, yeah."

"He was very specific."

"Was he."

Natasha smiles faintly. "He told me it was memorable phrasing." But then, her smile fades. "Would you have?"

"Ripped him into component atoms?" Nita blows out a heavy breath. "Yeah. At that moment, yeah. I try really hard not to make threats I'm not willing to carry out."

This time Natasha raises her eyebrows, ironic. "That's one way to do it."

"I know it's not necessarily the most popular way to do things among our circle of friends," Nita says with a touch of dryness.

"It's not a bad strategy," Natasha says. "Not bluffing unless you have to. It's good to be able to back up your bets."

Nita shuts the manual and props her chin on her hand. "Are you trying to make me feel better about threatening to kill someone? Because you don't have to."

Natasha seems about to say something, then changes her mind, shakes her head, and says instead, "But when Clint shot him, you healed him."

"--Oh, yeah."

When Natasha arches an eyebrow, Nita frowns and adds, "What?"

Natasha folds her arms. "He tried to kill you, you were ready to kill him, and then you turned around and saved his life."

Nita shrugs. "He would've died."

"That simple."

Nita lets out a laugh -- more of a scoff than anything. "No. It's not _simple_. It's what I promised I would do. It's right. It's not _simple_. Like -- I don't know, Nat. I didn't heal him because I felt sorry for him or something. I'm not _that_ good a person. But--" She folds her arms on the bedspread and rests her chin on them, gazing into the middle distance. "I don't like people dying. I've killed people before, sentient beings, when they were trying to kill me, but I don't like it. Too many people I know have been killed, and then to turn around and do that to someone else, like. I have to live with it, and . . . it's heavy. You know?"

There's a much longer pause than she was expecting. She rolls onto her side so she can look at Natasha, who's looking at her.

"I don't think I know the way you do," Natasha says, finally, her tone matter of fact.

Something clenches in Nita's chest, a soft quick twinge. All she can come up with in response is a quiet, "Oh. Yeah." Which seems hardly adequate.

The corner of Natasha's mouth lifts a little. "It's okay. I understand. " She puts her book aside and stretches, like a cat deciding it's done playing with that feather on a string you've been dangling at it. Then she flops onto her side, mirroring Nita, and gives her a smile. "I just wanted to get your side of it."

"Yeah," Nita murmurs, thoughtful. "Okay."

Natasha smiles again, picks up her book, and opens it up. Nita follows suit, picking up her manual, but she isn't really reading it.

"What would you have done?" she asks, abrupt, after a minute.

"I'd've gone to Clint and told him the new girl could handle herself," Natasha replies complacently, turning a page. "Same as he did."

"That's not what I meant," Nita says. But when Natasha lifts her eyes from the book and gives her one of those rare, warm grins of hers, Nita decides -- well, in the long run, as answers go, it'll do. It'll do.


End file.
